You'll Fall Down A Hole
by Lollerskateslex
Summary: WCMI verse. Everyone knows that in the real world Alice dreams of Wonderland, but what does she dream about when she's in Wonderland?


**A/N: Alice and Reginald belong to the lovely Brianna Garcia. Title belongs to The All American Rejects song The Poison (listen if you haven't, it heavily inspired this story).**

Thinking back, Reginald wasn't quite sure when the dreams started. He guessed they'd probably been going on since Alice first arrived in his care, but really, only recently had they been happening so often.

Alice had been with him for 13 years now, living with him in his small cottage in the woods, joining him for tea, and slowly learning his trade of making hats. She was, he had come to find out, quite the seamstress, and with a little encouragement and guidance had quickly found her place behind the sewing machine. Soon she was making both of their clothes, along with the most delicate little additions to many of his hats.

Reginald first learned about the dreams when Alice was ten. She'd come into his room in the middle of the night and poked his shoulder until he woke up.

"What is it Alice?" He'd sat up too fast, his head spinning for a second before he regained his alertness. "Is something the matter?"

"I had a bad dream." Was all the little girl said.

Reginald nodded, stretching his arms up over his head and swung his feet down to the floor, slipping each foot into its respective pink bunny slipper before taking Alice's hand and leading her back to her room.

"Want to tell me about it?" He asked as he tucked her back into bed, making sure the blankets were smooth, and she had her stuffed puppy near her.

"Uh uh." She said shaking her head.

"Okay, well try and go back to sleep. Goodnight, my little cricket." He brushed the hair from her face and kissed the top of her head. He walked back to his room, kicked off the slippers and was already half asleep by the time his head touched his pillow.

* * *

><p>"They were all sitting around talking about me." Alice said with a look of sadness. "They miss me. I just know it. They think I've run away, although mother thinks I've been kidnapped."<p>

Reginald felt as though his heart had skipped a beat, and now in effort to catch up was beating twice as fast. Hearing about Alice's dreams made him feel as like he'd been forced to swallow bricks. His hands felt clammy and damp inside the white gloves, and suddenly he wished he had something stronger than tea to sip.

"It was just a dream, cricket." He said, setting down the hat he was working on, gulping down the now cold tea hardly tasting it. She sat cross-legged in the corner of his work room, a book open on her lap, though she hadn't turned a page in quite some time.

"No. It's more than that." She insisted. "It's as if...as if I'm traveling to their world in my dreams. I know that's silly, but they're too vivid for dreams." She looked out the window, focusing on something far away.

"Nothing is impossible Alice." He said softly as he picked the hat back up to continue his work. In fact, Reginald knew it wasn't impossible. He'd heard about these sorts of dreams before. They were in fact just as Alice described them, and he knew it was only a matter of time before she cracked. Before she forgot about the magic of Wonderland, and the dullness of England and insisted on returning home. This single thought, Alice leaving, filled him with a dread worse than the time he'd run out of tea.

* * *

><p>"She asked if I thought it were possible to go home last night." Reginald tried to mask the sheer terror in his voice as he sat across the table from the March Hare.<p>

"And you said?" The Hare responded, picking at a thread on his jacket, holding it up for examination.

"I said what I always say. Nothing is impossible." Reginald ran a hand through his hair, knocking the hat off his head. The Hare watched him, suddenly worried. Something was definitely wrong on the day Reginald would knock the beloved hat on the ground and not instantly worry about getting it dirty.

"So make her want to stay." He shrugged off Reginald's blank stare. "Make her see why she stayed in the first place. Make her fall in love with Wonderland all over again."

"Do you think it'll work?" Reg was already standing up, ready to storm into his house and beg her to go out with him.

"She likes you Reginald." The Hare spoke in an off handed way.

"Don't be silly." He picked up the hat, brushed it off a few times and situated it back on top of his head.

"Fine fine. What do I know?" The Hare finished his tea and stood up. "Same time tomorrow?" He asked, already hopping away.

"Of course."

* * *

><p>Reginald spent the next few weeks planning things to do with Alice, places to take her to make her relive the joy of Wonderland. He took her to a concert the flowers had put on, and to play croquet with the Queen. They visited the caterpillar, and spent a day planting carrots with the White Rabbit. They had a picnic in the forrest, where they counted the momeraths, and Reginald had even gotten her to agree to spending a day in the Queen's maze with him, getting lost and then finding their way back out.<p>

"You can be so impossible at times, Reginald!" Alice shouted, turning around in a dead end, and walking the other way. She was fairly sure they had been in that same one four other times. "If you just stick out your right hand and keep it against the wall, you'll find your way out."

"You can't do that! That's cheating! It takes all the fun out of it!" He insisted, grabbing her hand and holding it to keep her from sticking it out again. He watched the blush spread across her cheeks as he continued to keep hold of her hand, steering them off down a different path.

"We can't stay in here forever, you know." She made no effort to extract her hand from his. He was counting this as a personal victory, no matter how small.

"What? We can't? Why not?" He sounded legitimately shocked at this news.

"Well, for one, what would we eat? And I'm certain I haven't seen any teapots around. Also, I don't know about you, but I don't quite think I would like to sleep on the ground."

"Well I would keep you comfortable." A sly grin pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Alice pulled her hand back from his sticking it back out against the wall. "No thank you." She walked ahead of him.

Reginald sighed, inwardly admitted defeat and followed along behind her. They were out of the maze within ten minutes.

* * *

><p>On the night before Alice's nineteenth birthday, Reginald decided to go for it. After almost a year of candid hand holding, flirting, plenty of rejection, and the Hare's constant encouragement, Reginald had plucked up enough courage to make his move. Having sent Alice away to pick flowers, he'd quickly swapped the usual tea table for a smaller, more intimate one, full of fancy plates and candles. The two ate in near silence, both knowing that something had shifted but neither knowing exactly what. When dinner was finished, and it was time for cake, Reginald made a big deal of singing, rather loudly and quite off key, to her, and wishing her a merry unbirthday with a smile. Alice closed her eyes, thought for a moment and made her wish.<p>

The candle was blown out, and Reginald was there. Surprisingly Alice didn't stop him as his hands found her cheeks, his face leaning close to hers. His blood was pounding through his veins, and he was sure she could hear his heartbeat. He slid his thumb once across her cheek before he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips softly against hers, pulling back after just a few seconds, unsure of her response. Her eyes widened before falling shut and he had a second to admire the way her long lashes brushed against her cheeks before her lips were back on his, more forcefully this time, one hand curling into his hair.

It was hard to pinpoint in the moment, but when Reginald looked back on that night, two figures with kiss swollen lips wrapped in shadows, bodies pressed against one another and pressed against the house, cake long forgotten on a small table near by, he could almost see it. The band between them that had been tightening and stretching over the years had finally snapped. There was nothing holding them back anymore.

* * *

><p>"What did you wish for on your birthday candle?" The question was whispered against a bare shoulder in the dark of his bedroom.<p>

"Hmm?" Her voice was sleepy and it took her a moment to come back to him from whatever dreamland she was in. She shifted a bit, turning in his arms, pressing closer against him, nuzzling her face against his bare chest.

"Your birthday candle. You made a wish. What was it?" He asked, his fingers running slowly through her hair now, watching the way the golden strands caught the moonlight before falling against his pillow. He couldn't imagine her being any more beautiful than she was now. She was agonizingly slow in answering. He'd already waited weeks for the right moment to ask, and now she was torturing him with mere minutes. Time certainly was a funny thing.

"To see them again." She sighed, the warm breath tickling across his skin. With her eyes closed she couldn't see the way his face fell, and he was thankful for that. He'd been hoping that she'd have wished for any of the things that had happened in the past few weeks, a kiss, a touch, a long night spent in his bed exploring each other's bodies. So many firsts in such a short time.

"Mmm..." he responded. She was already asleep.

Reginald lay there for hours watching her sleep, his fingers sliding through her hair over and over. Occasionally she would shift, or murmur a word or two. He was fascinated with watching her dream, especially because he didn't have to wonder what she was dreaming about. He did wonder what situation she saw them in tonight.

* * *

><p>"How do you know they're real, Alice?" He asked over tea a few weeks later, staring across the table. The Hare's nose twitched nervously and he tugged awkwardly on one of his ears. He hated when they got into it with him around.<p>

"How do you know they're not real? Nothing is impossible, right Reginald? Isn't that what you're always saying to me?" She set down her teacup, rubbing at her eyes. There were huge dark circles under them. She wasn't sleeping well anymore. At least four nights last week, she'd woken him up with her gasping sobs. It was rare when she got a peaceful night.

He, of course, had done his best to comfort her, to kiss away her tears and wrap her in his arms, but there was nothing he could say that would ease her pain or take away her need to go back. He could see her breaking in front of him and was powerless to stop it.

"I'm just saying you need to be logical." He responded, offering the teapot to the Hare who silently refused.

"Oh, this coming from a known madman?"

"Well there's no need for name calling..." He trailed off, murmuring something about being rude to the host.

"You don't have to believe them, Reginald. That's fine. But I do. And I want to go back. And if you won't help me, than I'll find my own way."

He sighed and took a sip of his tea, deciding it was best not to press the issue anymore. He turned to the Hare, but he'd somehow snuck away. Following his lead, Alice stood up and walked away from the table. "I'll be sleeping in my room tonight."

Reginald finished his tea, and put the things away and settled into his bed with a sketch pad, drawing out a design for a new hat. When it was time to sleep, he put out the light and crawled under the covers, trying to readjust to sleeping alone in his bed. He'd grown so used to having another body there.

He startled awake a few hours later, having shifted in his sleep and rolled on top of a body. He jumped, and sat up, looking down at the girl curled up next to him, hugging his pillow and looking up at him through watery eyes.

"I'm so sorry." She sniffled. At once he was laying back down, arms around her, pulling her close to him.

"Shh, it's okay cricket." He whispered, hand rubbing circles along her back, trying to calm her down.

Alice cried for what seemed like the rest of the night before finally drifting to sleep. Again, Reginald stayed up watching over her, even after she was out. As much as he hated to admit it, he was slowly giving in. He couldn't continue to see her like this.

* * *

><p>It was time for desperation. Up til now he'd stayed calm, he'd tried reasoning, hell he'd tried sex to keep her with him, but none of these had worked. Desperation, flat out meanness was his only hope. And somehow, Reg knew if he was mean to her, if he made her see what exactly she was running back to, she'd stay with him, despite the meanness. Despite the fact that he was the one trying to, quite literally shatter her dreams.<p>

"Look at what you're going back to Alice." His hands were shaking so he stuffed them into his pockets, determined not to let her see that. "The world, YOUR world is a different place than it was when a silly little girl tumbled down a rabbit hole. It's not how you remember it. There are rules, there are lessons, there is no freedom up there."

But she wouldn't hear it. Her dreams had finally gotten the best of her, and just like all those years ago, she wouldn't rest until she'd discovered her world again. And Reg knew this. He knew this with the same finality that he knew she'd stay after her first day in Wonderland. Her curiosity was a very strange thing and when she put her mind to a thing, she wouldn't stop until it was done. And she'd put her mind to leaving.

She sat at the table, staring at him, eyes just a little too wide, conveying just a little more than she would have wanted in that moment. Reg removed his hands from his pockets, flexing his gloved fingers once before grabbing a teacup and filling it, despite the three others sitting there, each with merely a sip taken from them.

"Tell me, my dear cricket, why you get to go off and be happy, while I must stay here and be miserable? Why, I'd rather The Queen take my head than imagine you not here, where you should be."

"So come with me." She said, her voice soft.

"Cricket...Alice...we've been through...you know I can't." He sighed, setting down the teacup as his hands began to tremble again.

"I'm sorry." The sound barely made it to Reginald's ears, but the look on her face, the tears welling up in her eyes was more than enough.

"So am I." Sorry that she was leaving. Sorry that he had given up on himself and his ability to keep her there. Sorry that he could no longer protect her from a world that wouldn't understand her. Not anymore.

* * *

><p>The night before Alice left Reginald lay awake in his bed. He was torn between keeping himself there, not torturing himself further, a nice clean break of sorts, and running to her bed, spending every last second he could with her, breathing her in, memorizing every single detail. A knock on his door roused him from his internal argument and made the decision for him.<p>

"Are you awake?" She whispered, pushing the door open just slightly. Without waiting for an answer, she pushed it open further and let herself in.

"Of course I am." He sighed, shifting in the bed to make a space for her. He held up the blankets and she crawled under, her body instantly curling up next to his, head on his shoulder, face pressed against his neck. He could feel her tears. "Don't cry, Cricket." He murmured into her hair.

"You know, don't you? You have to know." She pleaded, lips brushing softly against his skin.

"What do I know?" His hand moved in circles along her back.

"That I love you." The words were barely a whisper. "That I have to do this, for my own sanity. That I will never stop missing you. And that if there were any possible way to tear myself in two, I would gladly do it so part of me could always stay here with you."

And suddenly Reginald knew why he hadn't gone to her first. Why he'd held himself back. Surely the pain of just letting her go was less than hearing those last words. Using a finger, he lifted her chin, staring for a second into her tear filled eyes, before his mouth was on hers. The kiss was sloppy, too much emotion being expressed by such a simple gesture. It wasn't long before her hands were in his hair, his lips pressed against her neck, his name rolling off her tongue in the most desperate of ways. His own hands, rough and strong from years of work, found their way under her nightgown. He pushed it up and out of the way before tucking his head down, trailing kisses down over her stomach. He watched with a slight grin as her body shook. His hands held her hips down gently, but with enough force to have control. It was a matter of minutes before she was pushing his pajama bottoms down and kicking off her own plain underwear, at the same time pulling his face back to hers, locking their lips once more. She wrapped a leg around his hip drawing him in further as he rolled his hips against hers a few times before carefully pressing into her.

"Reg-" She gasped, digging her heel into his back, her own body arching up to meet his as he started to move, gently at first, then faster in compliance with her urgings. It might have been better or more memorable to take it slow, to whisper soft words to one another, but neither of them wanted that just now. What they wanted, what their bodies craved, was the concrete reassurance that someone else was there. That at least one other person in the world was feeling what they were at that moment. It was sloppy, and fast, but as they lay in bed afterwards, a mess of sweaty limbs tangled together, neither complained.

* * *

><p>The morning of Alice's departure, dawned a gloomy, gray day, as if the sky was controlled merely by Reginald's emotions. While Alice took a shower, he prepared their usual breakfast, a warm muffin for each, a bowl of fruit, and of course a pot of tea. They ate in silence save for the clinking of silverware and teacups nestling down against their saucers, unable to say what they were thinking, not really needing to. When breakfast had drug on longer than necessary, and Alice had spent some time walking through the house, lingering in certain rooms to touch a picture frame or move a lamp back to it's proper spot, she grabbed her bag and together they set out. As they walked hand in hand she turned for one last look of the simple cottage as if to say one last goodbye.<p>

Reginald led her to a part of the woods she was unfamiliar with, as it was not on her path to or from anywhere she normally ventured she had never considered it as the way out. He stopped next to a tree and used an oversized shoe to kick away some of the leaves and twigs gathered around the base, exposing a small hole in the ground that was at least three sizes too small for her.

"This can't be it Reg. I fell into Wonderland, the way out must be up, not down. Besides, it would be impossible for me to fit through a hole that size. You've got the wrong place." She looked around, eyes moving to the tree tops, hoping for a ladder or something hanging from the sky. That would make much more sense.

"Nothing is impossible, Alice, remember that." He said, placing his hand on her cheek and turning her face so that he could look at it one last time. "You'll always have a home here, my dear Cricket. With me in the cottage in the woods. There will always be a place set for you at the tea party, my dear."

Alice used her thumb to gather the few tears that spilled from his eyes. "Even if I could come back..." She whispered, not having the strength to finish the sentence, instead leaning down and kissing his cheek. "Goodbye Reginald." She took her bag in her hand, took in one last look of Wonderland, of her beloved Reg, and with a deep breath plunged down into the too small hole.

* * *

><p>Alice could hardly believe that after thirteen years her feet still seemed to remember the way back to her house. She stood for a moment just inside the gate, wondering a million things all at once. Would they remember her? Did they even still live here? What would she do if they didn't want her? Could she possibly go back?<p>

"Alice, stop being silly, you can do this." She said to herself, her heart already aching for the orange coat and the too big hat. Picking up her courage she walked up the path and straight for the door, knocking once, twice, three times before she could talk herself out of it. She chewed her lip and fiddled with her bag as she waited. After what felt like an eternity, the door swung open, her mother standing just on the other side.

"Yes, dear, can I help you?" She asked. Alice could see, could almost feel the second of impatience before the woman's hand flew up to her heart and she gave out a startled yell. "Alice? No. It's impossible. How can this be?"

"Nothing is impossible, mother." She said before she was tugged into the woman's arms both unable to contain their sobs. She was vaguely aware of other people rushing into the hall, wondering about the commotion, before she heard her father's booming voice and her sister's questioning. It was as if she was a little girl again, being passed back and forth between all of them, hugging here, kissing cheeks there, plenty of tears to go around.

"Mary Anne, go and fetch us the tea. We have so much to catch up on." Her mother spoke to one of the servants who rushed off to the kitchen. Alice was finally released, her bag forgotten in the hall as together they walked into the parlor. No one seemed worried that Alice might be tired, or not want to talk just yet, or may even need a moment to readjust to her surroundings.

As soon as she was seated, the couch was new, she certainly didn't remember it, the questions started. Wherever did you go? Who were you with? My dear, how are you alive? Thought you had run away. Thought you were kidnapped. Thought you were in a different country. Certainly you didn't survive alone all these years? They all stared at her with such expectant faces, just blatant curiosity, that Alice had no choice but to tell them.

So she started from the beginning, from the day she wandered away from her sister as they sat together on the bank. Her journey down the rabbit hole, her introduction to Wonderland and all of the strange yet wonderful people and creatures she had met there. She told them about the singing flowers and the talking Cheshire Cat, and of course she told them about the Queen and her outrageous rules. The more she spoke the more excited she became, standing up and walking about the room, describing for them the way the Card Soldiers marched and how the mushroom made her grow. And when they asked where she had lived, too excited to see the disbelief on their faces, she told them all about Reginald. How he was simply mad, but in all of the best ways. She told them about her little room in his house, and about the tea parties they'd had, leaving out, of course, a few of the most intimate details. Finally, she told them about the dreams. About how she'd seen them, how she knew they had missed her, and how, though it had broken not only her heart, she had come back to be with them.

"Well my dear, it seems as if you've had quite a...fantastic...journey." Her mother said, patting her shoulder as she sat back down, finally taking a sip of her tea, making a face at the blandness of it. She was much fonder of the tea Reginald had. "You must be exhausted. Come, let's go upstairs and you can lay down."

At the mere suggestion of sleepiness, Alice suddenly found that she was having much difficulty keeping her eyes open. It had been a rather long day, she guessed, wondering for a moment about the time differences between here and Wonderland. Her mother helped her up the stairs, her father bringing up her bag. They led her into a nicely decorated guest room, and helped her into bed.

"She's gone mad." It was her mother's voice, just outside the door. Alice heard, but was too tired to try and explain herself further. "We'll have to send her away. Did you see the way she acted? She actually believed she was in this...this...Wonderworld."

"Somebody must have gotten ahold of her. Muddled her brain somehow. Planted ideas." It was her father's deeper voice this time. "Yes. I guess I had better go and make the arrangements. Maybe they'll be able to talk some sense into her."

"Oh, imagine how the servants will talk." Her mother's voice faded away as their footsteps moved down the hallway. Alice was already floating in a deep, and for once dreamless, sleep.

* * *

><p>Alice did not like the carriage. It was cold and damp, and much too bumpy. She was already starting to get a headache from the constant up and down of the wheels over the cobblestones. She sat staring out the window, watching the small town melt away into the countryside. You're going away, they had told her the previous day. Not for long, just for some tests, just to see what the physicians have to say. They didn't believe her story. They thought she had made it all up. Yet up here, up in this world, she was powerless to say otherwise. She was just a young woman, after all, what could she possibly know?<p>

So though she had refused, and pouted and rebelled, and though she had run away in the middle of the night, back to the spot by the riverbank, where she was certain she had gone down and returned from, only to find nothing, she remained in the back of the carriage on her way to the nearest asylum. It was experimental, they had told her, what the physicians would do. A new science, of sorts, dealing with the brain. The would help her remember what had really happened.

They checked her in, they met with her warden, and the man that would be meeting with her for her procedures. They helped her put her things away in the room that would be hers. They kissed her cheek and said their goodbyes, promising to return in a day or two for a visit. They left her alone, curled up in her bed, crying quietly into her pillow, heart longing for the woods of a far away land, the scent of fabric and tea.

When Alice finally ventured out of her room, later that evening, she found a common room, people sitting about here and there. There was a group playing cards at a table, a few people reading near lamps, and in one corner, next to the only empty chair there was a man standing with his back to her, looking out the window. Deciding anywhere was better than her lonely room, Alice grabbed a book at random from the shelf and sat down in the empty chair. She had barely finished the first sentence of the book when the man turned and smiled. He took a sip from the teacup in his hand and tipped his in a nod. Alice looked back at him with confusion, her brows knitting together. The man bent down, his mouth a few inches from her ear, the scent of tea flooding her nostrils.

"I wondered when you'd show up, Cricket. You're awfully late for tea."


End file.
